


Gods Like Phat Clods

by orphan_account



Series: Kyman Week 2018 [5]
Category: South Park
Genre: Along with Ginger Kids, Alternate Universe, And Cartman is the angry boi, As you will soon see, Basically Kyle believes that all poor people should die, But they're only cameos at best, Day 5, I got some ideas for this from Chickenpox and The Passion of the Jew, Kyle Broflovski Being Eric Cartman, Kyman Week, M/M, Personality Swap, So be warned, Social Darwinism, Where Kyle is an evil bastard, also i apologize for using the lamest meme in existence, bc there is going to be a lot of non-pc rhetoric in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-06 00:39:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15182909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After Eric rejects his hand in marriage, Broflovski goes on a rampage and vows to cleanse the Earth of all of the people he considers to be clods. Shockingly, the object of his unrequited desires is at the top of his list.Cartman, however?He just wants to kick Kyle in the balls.





	Gods Like Phat Clods

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5: Personality Swap

If there was one thing that Broflovski remembered from his father, it was this: in this world, there existed two kinds of people. There were the Gods, who were rich, smart, and powerful in every way, and there were the clods, who were poor, dumb, and unimaginably weak. On this, he agreed with his father wholeheartedly. However, while his father insisted on the foolish notion of there being a use for this human refuse, Broflovski thought otherwise.  
  
After all, if he was a God (and Broflovski obviously was a God with a capital 'G' since he was just as awesome and rich as one), then why should he waste time and money on these worthless clods? Would they not be put to better use as fertilizer for his kosher crops? It would be better than having them taint the rest of humanity.

Why, everyday, Broflovski could smell the wretched stench of the horrid abominations fill the once clean air, making it as putrid and polluted as their blackened souls, and he could hear the vile sound that the beasts made as their revolting feet crunched on the dirt, causing even the very ground beneath them to recoil in disgust. It pissed him off like nothing else, watching these so called 'people' walk the Earth, for they didn't deserve to live. The clods were dragging down the rest of society with them, and so they all needed to be wiped out.

There were many subhuman creatures that fell under the category of 'clod' in Broflovski's sick and twisted little head. Obviously, the poor were one of the first to be queued up for extermination, as ever since his mother had forced him spend the night at Kenny's to catch chickenpox he had seen first hand the filthy way in which they lived, but they were not the only ones ripe for purification. There were also fat people, drug addicts, Mormons, the retarded, fatasses, Jimmy Buffet, the old, the sick, Palestinians, whores, prudes, fat fuckers, rich blacks, emos, furries, yaoi fangirls, oh, and did he mention fat bastards who need to die in a fire?

Yeah, he especially hated those.

Or at least, one fat bastard in particular.

"Sup, phatass."

"Don't you call me fat, Broflovski!"

Eric shouted from his cage, blowing hot fumes out from his flaring nostrils. His face was as ripe as a tomato, and from his altar on high, Broflovski could see the veins popping out on his neck. All in all, the fatass looked angrier than he had ever been in the entire time that the ginger had known him.

"Why not? It's what you are, Eric." Broflovski started listing all of Eric's so-called faults. "Even though your mom's a whore, you're a prude, you're poor, and you're phat. It's the unholy trinity, the triple-p threat, and your very presence infects my Godlike being with your clodliness-"

"Fuck you, you evil bastard! You're not a fucking God!" Eric gritted through his teeth, aggressively shaking a chubby fist in the psychotic redhead's direction. "You don't just get to commit wholesale genocide just because I won't marry you-"

In an instant, Broflovski's affable manner morphed into a terrifyingly murderous display of complete, unfettered rage.

"You shut the hell up! You shut the hell up right now and go die in a fire!" Grabbing a knife, Broflovski pointed at Eric with it, ignoring the shocked and bewildered crowd at his feet. "I wouldn't ever marry you, not even if I was given a million dollars! This isn't about you at all, you dirty phat clod!"

Eric, not one to be intimidated by Broflovski, sniped back at him. "Oh really? Then why do you think I'm a 'triple-p threat'?"

The lanky teen tilted his head in confusion. "Huh?"

"You heard me. Why do you think that I'm a triple p threat, when, out of my two 'cloddiest' traits," Here, Eric used finger quotes, "only two of them start with the letter p?"

Broflovski's face paled, eyes blowing outs as nervous laughter came from his lips. "What- what are you trying to say-"

"I mean, it's what I am, right Broflovski?" Coyly, he continued, counting off Broflovski's list from before. "I'm a prude, I'm poor, and, _worst of all_ ," Eric's voice had a mocking tone as he said this, "I'm _fat_ -"

"Oh Eric. Poor, delusional Eric. So focused on one little word." Broflovski coughed, chuckling. "Obviously, your inner clod is reaching critical mass. Soon, you'll explode, and your phat juicy bits will be splattered all over in a gory mess-"

"How do you spell fat, Broflovski?"

The redhead started to talk very rapidly, panic inflecting his tone. "I'm seriously, Eric, you're starting to worry me. Maybe we should just get the whole extermination thing moved up for you and skip this-"

"Spell the fucking word, you literal piece of human shit-"

"Eric-"

"Do I really have to do it for you-"

Broflovski hissed through his teeth. "You don't want to do this-"

"F-" Eric ignored him.

The Jew practically leapt off the podium, shoving his followers aside as he made his way towards Eric's cage. "FINE! FINE, ALRIGHT! I THINK YOU'RE PRETTY HOT AND TEMPTING, YOU GROSS ASS CLOD! THERE! I SAID IT!" Rattling the bars, spittle flew in the brunet's face as the spew of words continued to come out. "IN FACT, I THINK YOU'RE SO HOT, AND SO TEMPTING, THAT I WANT TO FUCKING MARRY YOU! ME! A GOD! MARRY YOU, A CLOD! YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN FUCKING GRATEFUL THAT I EVEN CONSIDERED IT, BUT NOOOOO, YOU JUST HAD TO REJECT ME LIKE THE SNEAKY POOR HOBO THAT YOU ARE!"

Gasping, Broflovski fell to his knees. All of his furious energy, having left him at the conclusion of his rant, faded away, leaving a sagging, sobbing figure clinging to the bars.

"W-Why...? Why won't you love meeeeee?"

Eric crouched down to his level, looking at him head on in the eyes. "Kahl."

He sniffed. "Y-Yeah?"

"Is that what this was all about? This wasn't all a part of some big scheme of yours?"

"W-Well no shit, phatass! Why else would I propose to you if I didn't mean it!?" The ginger blubbered, snot coming from his nose and tears falling down on his blotchy cheeks. "Why- Why would you say no?"

Eric, sighing with exasperation, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you forget the fact that we're still in _fucking high school._ We can't get married right now, that would be absolutely insane-"

"But I don't wanna waaaaait-" Broflovski whined, but Eric cut him off.

"Yeah, well you're gonna fucking have to, dipshit. I'm not going away anytime soon. Someone has to be around to make sure you don't start World War Three whenever you get bored-"

"Oh, whatever, phatass, I don't care-"

"And another thing. That, whatever you just said, that's the cringiest shit that I've ever heard."

"What do you mean?"

"Why the hell do you say 'phat' all the time? That has to be the gayest meme of all time. Here I thought you were a God-"

"Shut up before I cut you-" Broflovski brought out his knife, fully prepared to deliver...

But then, the door opened, and the most irritating man in the entire world interrupted him.

"Hello there! Gary Nelson with Hilton Guest Relations. Just making sure that you guys have everything you need!" The annoying man had and even more annoying smile, giving a thumbs up. "Need any buffet items restocked, you guys okay on coffee?"

Broflovski snarled. "Fuck off! Can't you see we're busy-"

A random person spoke up in the crowd, raising his hand. "Uh, actually, I would like some coffee."

"Oh! Me too!"

"Say, are we ever gonna get to the clod extermination bit? I'm getting bored with all this soap opera bullshit."

"Yeah, why don't we all just throw these two assholes out and have a party?"

"That sounds like fun! Let's do it!"

With that, in a few moments, Broflovski was overthrown by his own angry mob and kicked to the curb with Eric, all over fucking coffee.

Before he locked them outside, Nelson had one last thing to say. "Thanks for using the Airport Hilton for your conference- ack!"

Knife sticking out of his neck, the redhead growled in his ear. "You're welcome. Now leave us alone!"

"That was a bit excessive."

Broflovski whipped around.

"I hate you so much right now."

"I love you too, Kahl."

He rolled his eyes, smirking. "Unfortunately."

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by this scene: https://youtu.be/aN7HyLU8nGE?t=238
> 
> I apologize for the poor video quality, it was the only one I could find showing it.
> 
> Tell me if this was a piece of crap or not, I would love to improve. Until then, thank you for your time.


End file.
